


As The Saying Goes

by the10amongstthese3s



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, because cleves never gets to grieve, mamagon is forever the best aragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25833409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the10amongstthese3s/pseuds/the10amongstthese3s
Summary: When a portrait of a certain former monarch causes a surprising outburst from Anna of Cleves, it's up to the other queens to help her accept her grief.
Comments: 22
Kudos: 61





	As The Saying Goes

Grief is a funny thing.

Everybody deals with it differently. Jane Seymour, for example, channeled all of her emotions into cooking and cleaning and caring for her friends. Anne Boleyn, on the other hand, took a more reckless approach, opting to ignore her emotions for a long time until she was ready to deal with the loss of her past life. 

Catherine of Aragon struggled with her grief at first. Coming to terms with her daughter’s sins had been a tough pill to swallow. Of course, she loved that girl with all her heart, and she knew that she was no monster. Still, her daughter’s reputation pained her for a long time.

After a while, though, Aragon learned to accept the past. She learned to grieve for her child and the years she lost. Eventually, she even began boasting about her little girl, though still acknowledging her many flaws.

It was Catherine Parr who surprised her with a gift one day. 

A gift Aragon instantly treasured.

When Anna of Cleves made her way into the house after a long day of shopping with Katherine Howard, she had a bright smile on her face. A smile that vanished the moment her eyes met that framed monstrosity hanging above the fireplace.

Where a rather cute painting of a herd of highland cattle usually hung, was now something that made her gut twist. For a moment, she stopped breathing altogether until, finally, the German queen gave a grumble.

“What the fuck is that?”

The shakiness of her voice took the others by surprise. It wasn’t like Cleves to show such emotion. Her trembling hands and the pain in her eyes did nothing but confuse the women as they pondered her rare use of profanities.

“Cathy here decided to buy me a professional portrait of my Mary to hang in the living room,” Aragon answered after a moment, gently wrapping an arm around her daughter-in-law’s shoulders as she pressed a kiss to her hairline. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Parr could only blush as Aragon gushed about how thoughtful the gift was. Cleves, however, didn’t seem to have quite as positive a reaction.

“Take it down.”

The demand caught the others off guard. From what they knew, Cleves had always been relatively good friends with Mary. Certainly, closer to her than the rest of them, including the girl’s own mother. That’s why, when they saw the fury on her face, nobody knew what to say. 

Finally, after a moment, Jane hesitantly spoke up as she placed a hand on Cleves’ shoulder.

“This is Catalina’s way of remembering her little girl, Anna. Let’s just leave her be,” Jane murmured, but the instruction to ‘leave her be’ set a fire raging in Cleves’ mind. 

Suddenly, the German queen saw red. 

“I said, take it down!” The woman growled. When her demand was met with refusal once again, the queen charged across the room, attempting to tear down the frame herself, almost sending it crashing down on top of herself in the process. Still, though, her friends couldn’t understand her frustration. They just yelled at her in shock, trying their best to restrain the manic woman.

After a moment, Cleves finally hit Anne and Parr away and, without another word, made her way to her bedroom, slamming the door violently behind herself.

For days, she stayed in that room. 

Cleves had always been a quiet, solitary person but now it was growing concerning. The woman refused to enter the living room for even a moment. She wouldn’t even walk past the fireplace to get to the front door, instead jumping the fence in the back garden on the rare occasion that she decided to leave the house. 

After almost a week, a small knock sounded at the door, but Cleves didn’t answer. She heard the handle twist but the lock was bolted securely. It wasn’t until a tapping came at her window that Cleves had no choice but to face the intruder.

“Hey…”

“Go away, Anne.”

Before the window could slam shut, a hand found its way between the frame. The small yelp that sounded from Anne sent a shockwave through Cleves, a fraction of her humanity returning as concern for the girl she loved like a sister coursed through her veins.

“Jesus, Anne. Okay! Just get inside,” Cleves relented, seeing the pained look on the Boleyn girl’s face. It was more than just physical pain that resided in those emerald eyes. 

As she turned to go unlock the door, Cleves was surprised to hear a grunt and a crash sound from behind her.

_Of course Anne had climbed through the window._

Cleves couldn’t help but smirk and roll her eyes as she helped the girl to sit on her bed, taking a seat beside her. It was nice to have her best friend back by her side after so many days, even if she was dreading the conversation that was due. For the first time in so long, Cleves pressed a kiss to the younger girl’s forehead, making her smile at the gentle affection she knew the woman would only ever show in private. 

“I understand, you know?” Anne mumbled after a moment, cradling her injured hand as she looked up to meet her friend’s gaze.

Immediately, a mixture of terror and relief flowed through the German queen. Did she really know? Had Cleves given it away with her complete overreaction to the portrait? Did the others know too?

Did Aragon know?

“You do?” Was all Cleves could bring herself to mumble as she stared at the younger girl with wide eyes.

“Sure I do. I mean, I struggled with it at first too. Mary was a monster, after all. Bloody Mary and all that. If it was hard for me to look at that portrait without feeling sick, I can’t imagine how it felt for you,” Anne explained, “I mean, you were basically her best friend, after all. Right?”

“Get out.”

That blunt response from Cleves was not the one Anne had been expecting. Nor was she expecting the look of genuine rage that blazed behind her eyes. 

“B-But I-“

**“GET OUT, ANNE!”**

There was no room for argument as Anne was dragged towards the door and thrown from the room. 

The look of confusion and horror on the other queens’ faces as they watched on from outside the room made it obvious that they knew what the girl had been trying to do. They really thought Anne would be the one to get through to her if anyone could. Now their plans were foiled, and they had nowhere else to turn.

They were out of options. 

“Why don’t you all just stay out of my business?” Cleves suggested through gritted teeth before slamming her door shut once again, almost smacking Jane in the face in the process as she ran to catch her. Perhaps this time the door would stay locked forever. Cleves had an ensuite and a mini-fridge. She could survive for at least a few weeks on her stash of snacks. 

For now, the queen couldn’t bring herself to care about that. Instead, she simply collapsed into bed, pulling her pillow close as a dam burst inside of her, sending a flood of tears cascading down her cheeks. No amount of tears, she knew, could fix a broken heart. For the time being, though, it couldn’t hurt to try.

Later, when she finally woke, Cleves found herself in a pitch-black room. The gentle glow of the TV had died out hours ago whilst she wallowed in her pity. For all she knew, days could have passed since she passed out. Checking her phone though quickly confirmed that it was 5am. Only sixteen hours had passed since that awful interaction.

Not even a full day. 

If it were up to her, she would have happily slept for another sixteen. Perhaps it would be easier to not wake at all. That way at least she’d never have to see the betrayal in Anne’s eyes again. 

Considering this, Cleves stared blankly at her side table. It wasn’t until she spotted the pile of empty cans that she realised just how thirsty she was. Whether the dehydration was from the amount of tears she lost, or from the length of time she slept, Cleves couldn’t be sure.

Giving a sigh, the woman took a moment to find the motivation before gently easing herself up and making her way towards the door. On her way to the kitchen, she made a mental note to buy some actual water to keep in her room, rather than the energy drinks and soda her mini-fridge was currently stocked with. It’s not like she could show her face now after her outburst towards Anne. Regular trips to the kitchen would be a no-go.

Perhaps she should go stay with the ladies in waiting for a little while. She wasn’t sure how welcoming Maggie and Maria would be after the way she upset their queens, though.

Cleves was pondering this, staring into space through the kitchen window, when a voice almost made her jump out of her skin.

“That was cruel, you know?”

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. 

A very true statement. Cleves had been out of order in her treatment of Anne. As if yelling at her wasn’t bad enough, Cleves had manhandled her. Physically thrown her from the room as if she were some naughty dog being thrown in the garden. That was no way to treat someone you call your best friend. Certainly not when she was only trying to help.

Unfortunately, Aragon mistook Cleves’ regretful silence as further petty sulking. The girl’s attitude towards her daughter was infuriating enough. This, though, worked to make that anger grow tenfold. 

How _dare_ she ignore her?

“You know what?” Aragon hissed, moving to come face to face with the younger queen. “You have no right to act like this. Like some spoilt child! You have no right to try and stop me grieving my daughter in whatever way I choose. I am her _mother,_ no matter what despicable acts she allowed to happen under her rule. I don’t care how much you may hate-“

“Oh, shut up, Aragon! I don’t hate her, you dense cow…”

Cleves trailed off as her eyes met the ground, her once-powerful voice shifting to a whisper as she spoke the words to life. A confession she never could have dreamed of professing in her past life. One she would have happily kept hidden until her final days.

“I love her. I _loved_ her.”

Oh…

Immediately, Aragon’s demeanour shifted. In an instant, the woman went from a raging dragon, spitting fire with each word, to a wide-eyed lamb. 

_How had she been so blind?_

Without a word, she wrapped her arms around the younger girl as she saw her exterior begin to crumble, the recently rebuilt dam once again bursting behind her eyes, letting forth a rush of tears. There was no doubt in her mind now. This wasn’t resentment, it was heartbreak.

“How can you expect me to look into the eyes of the woman I love every single day knowing that I’ll never hear her voice again? That I’ll never feel her lips against mine, or hear that sweet voice of hers ever again,” Cleves sobbed into the crease of Aragon’s shoulder, clinging tightly to the Spanish queen.

It was rare to see Anna of Cleves so vulnerable. In fact, it may have been the first time anyone in their new life had ever seen the woman cry.

Yet, there she lay, wrapped up in Aragon’s dressing gown on the kitchen floor like some hysterical toddler.

“Oh, mija… I miss her too.”

That confirmation only sent more tears streaming down the younger woman’s flushed cheeks. Every time she saw that portrait, she saw everything she lost. Every kiss to her cheek as they explored the gardens, every late-night confession and early-morning whisper, every whiff of that sweet, floral scent she loved so much - lilies and something else she could never quite identify. 

Aragon understood that now. She understood the constant longing to hold the one she loved so dearly. After all, she felt it too.

“That sounds just like my Mary; finding joy in the one thing forbidden to her.”

Cleves could only nod in agreement, smiling through her tears at the memory of the girl and her tumultuous relationship with authority. Mary never was good at doing as she was told. The second she was born a female and not a male, Aragon knew she wasn’t going to play by the rules. Not for her sake or anyone else’s. 

“She used to joke about us one day being wed. Even around maids and servants, she would call me her queen, as if it were nothing to be ashamed of. When I got sick, she promised me a burial fit for a queen. Swore she’d be by my side for eternity,” Cleves explained, wiping her eyes as she chuckled weakly, “That’s why she had me declared as ‘Anne of Cleves: Queen of England’ on my grave. Why she demanded I be buried in Westminster Abbey where she would too be laid to rest.”

Stories like that one flowed from the girl as the sun rose and the birds began to chirp. Aragon occasionally offered small anecdotes from Mary’s childhood but, mostly, she simply opted to let the grieving lover mourn.

Soon, the words flowed easier, and the pain in her chest began to fade. Cleves didn’t even notice her tears had stopped.

Finally, she was offered a safe space to mourn.

It was only once the others began wandering the house that Aragon led Cleves back to her room, pausing as they passed through the living room. That look of heartache and fury from before was gone now though as Cleves’ eyes fell to the painting above the fireplace. A certain sorrow remained in those inky eyes but now, a small smile played at Cleves’ lips as she examined the familiar face.

A face she once knew every pore and freckle of like a map. Hazel eyes that once spoke to her stared back at her with no sense of familiarity but, now, Cleves felt a strange sense of peace seeing them. As if a weight had finally been lifted from her shoulders after centuries of carrying around the burden of her secrets.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you to bed,” Aragon whispered, gently squeezing the German queen’s hand in an attempt to ground her for fear of losing her once again.

After that night, Aragon opted to move the painting into her own bedroom. She couldn’t bear the idea of being the one to cause Cleves so much pain. She did give her a gift, though. A simple present to try and ease her into accepting her grief.

From that day on, a small locket hung around Cleves’ neck. A token of Aragon's blessing. Nobody questioned what was inside of it - though Anne desperately wanted to know - or what the two had spoken about to resolve the issue. They knew it wasn’t their business to interfere in. So long as Cleves was okay, the other queens didn’t mind being left out. She would tell them once she was ready.

Laying in bed, staring into that locket, Anna of Cleves knew that she was beginning to heal. The tightness in her chest as she met those gorgeous eyes once again proved that fact to her. It may have hurt, but now the pain was more bearable. Every day, it was growing easier.

Closing the silver latch, the woman pressed a kiss to the precious metal before laying back against her pillow.

Finally, she was beginning to grieve.

Finally, she was beginning to heal.

As the saying goes, it’s better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. Slowly, Anna of Cleves was beginning to believe that cliché phrase.

After all, time’s the greatest healer.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, my loves!! 💚 I won't lie, I've had this sat in my drafts for a while because I didn't know how to end it so I apologise if the ending seems rushed or cheesy! 
> 
> Whilst doing my diploma I learnt a lot about Cleves and Mary's friendship, so I wanted to try and expand on Cleves' character a little, seen as I felt like I write her rather one dimensional a lot of the time. (Seriously, I posted on my Tumblr about it but they were SUPER close. Cleves even rode in Mary's personal chariot with her and Elizabeth during Mary's coronation!) I know a lot of people hate Mary so thank you for giving this one a go and I understand if you didn't like the romanticisation! 😊🦆


End file.
